


Me & You

by Ranger_of_Estel



Series: Captain Canary Prompts [2]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: F/M, all the soulmates, soulmate aus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 00:39:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 16,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15740568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ranger_of_Estel/pseuds/Ranger_of_Estel
Summary: A collection of Captain Canary Soulmate oneshots, mostly prompts I've received on Tumblr





	1. you can transfer any injuries/pain your soulmate has onto yourself

                Leonard makes his way slowly through the ship, more interested in moving than reaching any actual destination. He keeps flexing his new hand, unsettled at the lack of all the callouses and roughness he’s accustomed to. The skin is sensitive and raw, much like his fraying nerves as he thinks of Mick locked in the holding cell, of his threats toward Lisa.

                He ends up in the cargo bay, only half surprised to find that Sara is already there. Curled into one of the corners between the wall and a storage box. She’s changed back into her jeans and black shirt, but her hair is still braided tightly about her head. He walks over, sinking slowly beside her. She jolts slightly, and he dips his head, voice soft. “Sorry.”

                She shakes her head, “It’s alright.” Her voice is lacking its usual strength. She looks at him, head tilted just slightly to the side. “How’s the hand?”

                “Good as new,” he drawls, holding it up, jumping slightly as her fingers come into contact with his palm. She pulls away, and he shakes his head, “It’s alright, no pain.” He reaches over to rest it atop hers once more. “Just a little more sensitive than I’m used to.”

                She runs her thumb over his knuckles, sending little jolts through him. But he finds it’s not entirely unpleasant. “I’m sorry,” her voice is quiet.

                “For what?” he looks at her with a frown.

                “That you went through that alone, the choice with Kronos, with…” she sighs, shaking her head. “The first time you’re really hurting, and this stupid bond can’t do a thing about it.”

                “Bond?” he looks at her in surprise, “You mean our-“

                “Soulmate link,” she nods. “Can’t do a damn thing about heartache and betrayal.”

                For a moment he just stares; they’ve both mostly avoided the discussion about what they are since the incident after the bar fight. But it’s not even that, so much as the idea that anyone would be willing…eager even, to suffer on his behalf, that’s caught him off guard. He’s not sure how to respond.

                His train of thought shifts as she moves slightly, wincing beside him. “Sara?” his brow furrows, “What’s wrong?”

                “Nothing,” she almost hisses in return.

                His frown just deepens, “You’re hurt.”

                “I’m fine,” she replies, shifting away from him slightly.

                “Come now Canary, that’s a poor lie. Here,” he reaches out and she’s suddenly on her feet.

                “I said I’m fine, Crook.” Her words are sharp, her shoulders a line of tension as she paces.

                “Medbay is empty no.” He watches her, the way her hands keep clenching and unclenching at her side, “ you’re obviously hurting.”

                “And I deserve it,” she spins on him, eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

                “What are you talking about?” He rises, taking a careful step toward her, which she counters with one back.

                “Don’t you get it?” she looks at him. “Nothing’s changed Len,” her voice almost wavers. “Things got hard and I went back to the League. I killed to quiet the bloodlust, I-“ she clenches her jaw, “I deserve to hurt.”

                “Like hell you do!” he growls, she seems startled by his response, allowing him time to step forward and gently grab her wrists. “If anyone is at fault here it’s me, if I’d iced Mick in that forest none of this would have happened.”

                “He’s your brother,” tears still shimmer in her eyes. “You had no idea this would happen.”

                “Still,” he reaches up, brushing a stray hair behind her ear. “No reason for both of us to hurt for it.” He doesn’t give her time to object, just tightens his hold on her wrist fractionally when she tries to jerk away.

                “Len no!” He can’t help the small gasp that passes his lips, his back lighting with the familiar pain of being struck by leather. Though he doubts Sara’s wounds came from a belt. It’s an odd sensation, the way his skin stings despite knowing there are no wounds on him.

                She’s glaring, but he can see the relief in her body language. “You didn’t need to do that.”

                “I know,” he lets her wrists drop, reaching up to brush tears away with one hand. “But I wasn’t going to watch you torture yourself.” He shakes his head, “I can’t fix what happened with Kronos, but this.” He shrugs, “at least I could do something.”

                She huffs, “I’m not sure if I should thank you or hit you.” She shakes her head, grasping his new hand in hers. “Come on,”

                “Where are we going?” he raises a brow.

                “Medbay,” she grumbles, “You aren’t hurting on my behalf, Snart.”

                He smirks, but chooses to remain silent. At least his new ability means one of the people he cares for doesn’t have to hurt for his mistakes. He also files away that it’s an efficient way to make Sara take better care of herself…and that he should do the same; as he has no doubts she will do the same for him.

Maybe this soulmate thing won’t be so bad after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where it’s impossible to lie to your soulmate.  
> ~  
> Pre-relationship  
> Season 1

* * *

Sara Lance has lied to those close to her all her life.

She lied to her parents about study nights that were really parties with older kids.

She lied to Laurel about where she was going the week she boarded the Gambit.

She lied to Ollie while they were on the island.

She even lied to Nyssa...more than she likes to think about.

                So When Leonard Snart inquires if she was hurt in the bar fight, despite what she knows will be a bruised rib, she doesn’t even think before blowing him off with “I’m Fine.” Only, the words never actually come. She recovers easily enough, shrugging before tossing a comment about how she can take care of herself at him. She chalks the whole thing up as one of Rip’s weird side effects of time travel and moves on.

                But then it happens again when she tries to bluff her way out of something during their game of Gin. He looks at her oddly, but she manages to brush it off and they continue with the game. She tests it out over the following weeks onboard together, until finally she has no doubts that Leonard is the only one causing the effect.

She knows what it means to be incapable of lying to someone; and she’s never been more afraid of something in her life.

                She keeps the discovery to herself; and for a while attempts to avoid him. But she quickly realizes not only will it raise suspicion, but she misses the companionship the Rogues provided. Instead she learns the loopholes in the system. She may not be able to lie, but turns out she can get away just fine if she withholds part of the truth.

                And then they are in Russia; her finger is on the trigger when his voice fills her ears. “That’s how a killer thinks, and that’s not you anymore.” From anyone else she would have scoffed, would remind him why she was chosen by Rip…but this is Leonard, and he’s as incapable of lying as she is.

                The more missions they have one another’s backs, more nights playing cards and learning one another, she finds herself growing more fond of the Crook. But with it grows the fear; especially when his skepticism of soulmates and general disbelief in love become apparent.

                So when he comes to her room, cards in hand and apology on his lips as he leans against her bed. He asks about ‘Me & you’ and she freezes. She hides behind anger, despite feeling no such emotion over the incident on the bridge.

                She’d known he wouldn’t shoot her, he’d been backed into a corner, and lashed out in response. She’d done the same in the past. She makes the comment about being “One hell of a thief” and then stands, making her way toward the door.

                “So you do have feelings for me.” He drawls, causing her to spin and face him once more.

                He’s still leaning against the bed, looking up at her. “I said no such thing.”

                He smirks, rising to his feet. “Then correct me,”

                She thinks there is a flash of fear in his eyes when she opens her mouth to speak. “I can’t.” she takes an uneven breath.

                His smug grin shifting into something searching. “Sara?”

                She looks at him, “The idea of us being…” she shakes her head, “it terrifies me.”

                He offers a wry smile, “I suppose a criminal isn’t exactly the soulmate a girl dreams about.”

                “What?” her brow furrows, “Len, I’ve never cared about that.”

                His eyes widen some at her statement, but it quickly returns to curiosity. “Then what?”

                “I’m…I...” she takes a slow breath. “I’m broken…and if I cannot soften my past…if you knew-“

                “I don’t care.” He shrugs.

                “Len,” she’s almost pleading, “You haven’t seen the things I can do.”

                “I don’t need to.” He sighs, running one hand over his head. “You think I don’t have skeletons? That I’m not afraid of being close to someone?” He takes a step closer, “I haven’t exactly had the best experience with people who claim to _love_ me.” He makes a face as if the word itself is bitter. “But,” his hand reaches out, just brushing the skin of her wrist. “here is what I do know.”

                She stepped closer without really thinking about it, watching him curiously, nervously even. “Yes?”

                “When I first realized what we are I was angry, bitter that we met only after we had both been through so much.” His drawl is gone as he continues, “but then you came through the door with a bottle of Rip’s liquor, taking on Mick at cards after pointing out a flaw in Gideon’s blueprint.” His lips pull up in a smile. “Somewhere along the way I stopped wanting to lie to you.”

                “Len,” her eyes find his, searching for answers she’s not sure either of them have. “Do you really think we could make something work?”

                He shrugs, smirk back in place. “I think we make a good team Birdie,” his head tilts slightly, “And I think I’m willing to try and figure this out if you are?”

                She looks up at him; the man who had talked down her blood lust, the man who avoids physical contact but allowed her to curl into him when her nightmares became to much. This man who had received nothing but hardship, handing her a key to his heart and the chance to break him. “Okay,” His face lights up, a boyish grin so far from his usually guarded expression. She can’t help but smile back “Now what?”

                “Don’t know,” he leans down, nose brushing against hers, “I do believe my skills as a thief have been challenged?”

                She hums in agreement, head tilting up slightly. “And what are you going to do about it Crook?”

                As his lips press to hers, one hand slipping behind her head as the other entwines his fingers with hers, she decides maybe the universe is onto something after all.


	3. Lies captured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where every lie your soulmate tells you appears on your skin.  
> ~  
> Established relationship  
> S1

* * *

                Sara is curled up at the foot of her bed, back pressed into the corner and knees nearly touching her chest. Tears trail down her cheeks, splashing against the exposed skin of her legs, running over the inky markings there. She absently traces one of the elegant words, permanent reminders of the previous year.

                _I don’t cheat_ is written along her thigh, an almost smile tugging at her lips as she thinks back to the night it appeared. She’d been in his quarters playing cards, accused him of slipping cards up his sleeve. Sara had noticed the phrase when she’d changed into her shorts that night. She’d felt so smug she’d nearly stormed into his room to confront him about it with something along the lines of ‘ _I knew it!’_ She’d made it about half way down the hall when her mind really processed what his words meant on her skin.

                She later discovered that it was really the second lie, the first _I’m only here for the score_ written clearly behind one shoulder. She doesn’t distinctly remember when they’d even had the discussion, something about what they were risking to save the world.

                _I don’t regret killing my father_ decorates her right ribs…how many times had she traced that one? How often had she wanted to broach the topic again with him?

                _We don’t do feelings_ ran down her left side. Conversations about he and Mick, about working through their issues. It was the first lie he saw. They were cleaning up after the incident in the wild west, she was pulling her shirt back on when he’d walked in.

                There were others, one word lies here and there, conversations she quickly lost track of. But after he’d seen the marks something shifted, and words almost never made their way onto her skin. “Now I wish you’d lied to me more.” She sniffs, but doesn’t fight the tears.

                “Apparently not,” Her head jerks up at the familiar drawl, one brow raised as he shows the tiny writing now across his wrist.

                “Len!” she jumps, stumbling off the bed only to be wrapped up in waiting arms. “You died?” she half asks against his skin.

                “Obviously not,” he smirked, nuzzling against her. “I’ll try and explain later, right now,” he kissed the shell of her ear. “I just want to be here.”


	4. Nightmares for you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where when you dream you’re seeing whatever your soulmate is currently experiencing.  
> ~  
> Established relationship
> 
> Trigger Warning: Mentions of past abuse

* * *

                Sara sits, shifting fractionally on Leonard’s bed as she plays with the deck of cards. She glances up, releasing a low whistle as Leonard steps out of the bathroom shirtless. He starts, looking at her “Sara,” he grabs a shirt from the top of the dresser, quickly pulling it on.

                “Hey,” she shrugs, “you said cards.” She holds up the stack.

                “I did,” he straightens the shirt, moving to sit across from her. “Your deal.” He states, motioning to the cards. They start the game, but he keep catching her eyes wondering to his torso whenever she thinks he’s not looking. “Something you want to ask, Birdie?”

                “No…it’s…” she shakes her head, “it’s nothing.”

                “Do they bother you?” He tugs at the hem of his shirt.

                “It’s not that.” She sighs, “can I ask you something, more personal than normal?”

                He shifts, arms crossing over his chest. “Don’t know, ask and we’ll find out.”

                “Your scar…the one, here.” She motions just above the waistband near her hip. “How did you get it?”

                “Does it matter?” his eyes narrow.

                “Humor me?” she tilts her head.

                “I was eighteen,” he begins, shrugging slightly. “Lewis got drunk…Lisa broke a bottle, knocked it off the counter, he picked up the neck-”

                “He came at Lisa, who looked up terrified. So you grabbed her arm, pulled her behind you. Lewis plowed forward, swore…called you-” her voice cracks, “terrible things before swinging.”

                “Sara?” Leonard looks at her, his own voice uneven. “How do you-”

                “Nightmares,” she replies, knees pulling up. “I had them on and off for years…” she shakes her head, “I didn’t think….didn’t put the pieces together.” She swipes at her eyes, “I’m sorry.”

                “No…I’m sorry you had to see-“ he trails off, face paling as he looks at her. “Sara,” his voice is strained.

                “Len?” Her brow furrows, then realization hits her. “Oh god…the League. You saw-“

                “No,” he frowns, voice only a whisper. “The Amazo.” She takes a shaky breath, and he shakes his head. “You were…” his jaw clenches. “I tried to find you, promised myself to use the _lessons_ from my father to make each of those men pay for what they did.” He looks at her, eyes shimmering slightly. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.”

                “You were protecting Lisa.” She replies, shaking her head.

                “I should have found a way to protect you both.” He holds out one hand, which she accepts as invitation and crawls up to tuck into his side. “I’m sorry Sara,”

                “Stop apologizing,” she looks up at him, “I wasn’t there to help you either.” Her lips pull into a half smile, “you know, when I would train with the League we were encouraged to envision a victim.” She shrugs, “I came up with a lot of creative ways to kill Lewis Snart.”

                His eyes darken, “you don’t want to know the things I imagined doing to Ivo and his men.”

                “Guess neither of us will get our revenge.” She shrugs, then pauses. “So…now what?”

                “Hmm?” he looks down.

                “We’re soulmates…apparently.” She replies, head cushioned on his shoulder.

                “So it would seem.” He nods.

                “So now what?” she repeats.

                “Why change?” his finger traces down one arm. “I didn’t give a damn if the universe approved before. What’s it matter now?”

                She laughs softly at that, “guess you’re right.”


	5. For just a touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where you don’t know your soulmate until you touch them.  
> ~  
> Pre-relationship  
> S1

* * *

                Leonard Snart became disenchanted with the idea of love by the time he was a teenager. His father’s idea of affection left Len and his sister decorated with scars. His mother’s love was not enough to keep her from leaving. Juvie was full people who built alliances only to turn around and stab you in the back.

                In his life he’d found two people worth the risk of loving. Lisa was one, Mick was the other. And even with Mick there was an ever present chance for pain; both physical and emotional. Besides, he’d seen what happened when people like him, criminals, found soulmates. Either they got used as leverage, by cops and other criminals. Or, the soulmate turned away, unable to accept the person they were bonded with. Either way only brought more pain, and he’d had quite enough of that already.

                He decided very young that he didn’t need a soulmate, and he didn’t want to know if he met them. So he was careful to avoid skin-to-skin contact. A habit that was already part of him thanks to his father. In addition to his skills for subtly avoiding touch, he was careful to always wear long sleeves, and if he was going to be around others he had a thin pair of gloves. The only exposed skin was his head and neck, even then he would keep his hood up as often as possible without drawing attention, or would wear a beanie in crowded places.

                These habits don’t change once he’s on the Waverider. The crew is an interesting mix; he knows Kendra and Carter are soulmates before anyone says a word, assumes that both Rip and Martin have also found their counterparts by the rings on their hands. At first he thinks Ray is actively searching for his, the way he is in contact with everyone possible. But after a few conversations he finds that the living embodiment of Sunshine (he didn’t know it was possible to be happier than Barry Allen) had lost his soulmate in a car accident…he just genuinely enjoyed the physical contact with others.

                That left only a few wildcards, people he had to be more careful to avoid. First was Jax, he very much doubted the younger man had found his soulmate yet. The other was Sara Lance; which proved more of a challenge than expected. It wasn’t that she was actively trying to touch him, in fact while she did not avoid contact she also never went out of her way to get it. Yet they always seemed near each other, like some outside force was pulling them together.

                Soon they were sitting across from each other to play cards in their rooms, or on opposite sides of the small table in the galley to drink their morning coffee. She asked him to spar sometimes; which he accepted against his better judgment. The first time he joined her, still in long sleeves and gloves, she gave him an odd look but carried on.  Eventually she would reach out, a hand on his shoulder to alert him of her presence, which would startle him less than if she spoke (she made so little sound, he hardly noticed her entering rooms sometimes). His socked foot would pump hers on the bed during cards, or beneath the table. They never spoke about it, but she was always careful to avoid touching exposed skin, and soon he’d simply accepted the gentle pressure of her hands touching his arms or back, the way her shoulder would press into his. They are both content.

                Then comes nearly freezing to death. He knows she’s not going to stay warm enough and wraps her in his jacket. Doesn’t think before pulling her to tuck into his side. His body aches from the cold, or at least what he can feel of it. They are going to die here, frozen in this tin can flying through time. He’s nearly positive she’s unconscious, feels he’s likely not far behind. And some little voice in him says that if they are going to die, he should find out if his suspicions are right, if they are _something._ So with a frozen sigh he gives in, resting his head against hers.

                He’s not sure what he expected, some kind of spark, a jolt, something obvious. Instead as his forehead touches hers, he just _knows._ But then Ray finishes repairs, Gideon slowly beginning to warm the room and he pulls away. When Sara wakes up she doesn’t look at him differently, and without the safety of their imminent demise the fear of what having a soulmate means returns. So he keeps it secret, while with every card game, every late night spent talking or having one another’s back on missions, he’s reminded of that moment.

                He takes a hit for her on a mission. The idea of not having her around far more frightening than the enemy they face. Dazed and ears ringing as he struggles back to his feet. He offers her a quick nod and they return to the fray. That night she comes to his room, concern clear in her eyes. “What the _hell_ were you thinking out there today?”

                “You’re welcome,” he drawls.

                “You could have been killed,” she half growls

                “Occupational hazard,” he shrugs.

                “But why?” she’s looking at him, surprise and confusion in her eyes. “Why risk your life for mine, Crook?”

                “Because,” he sighs, running a hand over his head. “Now that I have someone, I can’t imagine not having you here.”

                “What are you talking about?” she’s frowning,

                He looks at her for a long moment, then with a sigh he pulls off a glove and reaches out to enclose her petite hand in his. The moment their skin connects it returns, the warm feeling of knowing he is connected to her, and she to him. She gasps slightly, and he drops his hand. “Couldn’t lose you.”

                “How?” she’s frowning, “I suspected…but you knew.” It’s almost an accusation.

                “I did,” he nods, “I found out when we were freezing to death.” He shakes his head, “You were unconscious at the time.”

                There’s a flash of anger, of hurt, and something else in her eyes as she watches him. “We’re Soulmates?” Her voice is hurt, “why didn’t you tell me?”

                The broken little boy is back, waiting for her to voice her disgust, to voice angry words or run. “Because I’m a thief Sara; I hurt people, and part of me enjoys it.” He shakes his head, “you deserved someone better,” he curses the way his voice wavers. “And I wasn’t sure I could handle the disappointment in your eyes.”

                “Disappointment?” she sounds surprised, “you thought I would be upset?” She takes a step forward, which he counters with a half step back. She softens, “you’ve kept this secret for months because you didn’t think you were good enough?” She doesn’t wait for a response, just shakes her head. “Len,” she reaches out, slowly enough he could pull away before letting her hand rest along his jaw. “I couldn’t imagine it being anyone else.”

                He inhales sharply, impulsively reaching out to pull her into his arms. She settles against his chest, hands locked behind his head as she nuzzles into his collar. And for the first time in longer than he can remember Leonard craves the feel of skin against his. As they stand there, warm and _together_ he decides maybe some people really are worth the risk.


	6. Once upon a dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where you can talk to your soulmate in dreams  
> ~  
> Pre-relationship  
> Pre-S1

* * *

                Sara had always heard his voice when she slept, since before she could remember. By the time they explained soulmates to her in middle school she was already accustomed to the boy in her dreams. Of course, she could never quite remember his voice when she woke, couldn’t make out the face in her dreams. Not that it bothered her, she just liked having someone to talk to at night.

                Highschool was harder, many of her friends were finding their soulmates, others at least knew what they were looking for. She doesn’t hear him as much, their sleep patterns rarely matching up now.

                “I miss you,” she sighs, sitting beneath the tree they meet at in their dreams.

                “Missed you too little bird.” She feels a hand rest over hers, shoulder against his as he settles next to her. “Sorry I haven’t been around, things are…complicated.”

                “I feel that,” she groans.

                “What’s wrong?” he inquires.

                “It’s just…” she sighs. “All my friends are finding                 their soulmates, and there’s this guy I like but…”

                “Go get him then,” the other figure replies.

                “But what if they aren’t you?” she sighs.

                “Who cares?” he asks, squeezing her hand slightly. “Soulmate or not, go get him. To hell with the universe and soulmates.”

                “One of these days I’m going to find out your name.” She huffs.

                He chuckles, “Maybe you will.”

* * *

                Sara dates around a bit, all the way up to Oliver Queen and the Gambit; but it’s never the blurry memories of the man in her dreams. When she ends up on the Amazo her dreams become the only sanctuary she has.

                “Little bird?” His voice is soft, as if he’s afraid even that could break her.

                “I don’t know how much more I can take…” her voice wavers, “I’m so afraid every time I hear footsteps in the hall.”

                “I know,” it’s strained, and she knows there’s anger hiding just beneath the surface. “Are you sure you can’t give me any more information?”

                “I’m sorry,” she sniffles, “I just know that after the boat went down I was rescued by these men, an island in the middle of nowhere, and some kind of scientific testing.”

                “Hey, it’s alright.” His thumb runs over her hand. “You’re strong.”

                “Tell me about you?” she pulls her knees up. “Are you still traveling? How is your sister?”

                He talks, the same vague details they’d chosen to use years ago. But it’s enough to make her think of other places, of real food and family. It’s hope, and right now that’s what she needs.

* * *

                When she ends up at the League she still relies heavily on him, on the voice that is always waiting. In fact, their sleep schedules seem to match up more now; but she contributes that more to time difference than either of them getting normal schedules. She tells him about Nyssa, and he encourages her to pursue the other woman, reminding her that if she’s happy he will never hold it against her.

                “I’m sorry,” she pushes off the sand, sending the swing further into the air.

                “Whatever for?” he asks, hands warm where they come into contact with her back to push her.

                “If we ever find each other…I have a lot of scars now, afraid I won’t be wearing many backless dresses or bikinis.” She frowns.

                “Do you remember, years ago, when I would ask you what your family was like?” he asks.

                “Yeah, and sometimes you sounded like you were afraid to find out.” She replies with a short nod.

                “Part of me was; I was terrified that one day you were going to start telling me your family was like mine. Broken and-“ He pauses a moment, “dangerous.” Another push forward, “You won’t be the only one covering scars.”

                “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you more,” she adjusts her hands on the chains.

                “You were too young,” she hears the frown in his voice. “I didn’t want to put that sort of burden on you.”

                “Still, I wish I could be there for you.” She lets her head drop, “Wish I was with you now.”

                “Mm?” he smirks, “I’m jumping cities again right now, wouldn’t be easy to find me.”

                She chuckles, “You’d be surprised what I can do.”

* * *

                He helps her plan her escape from the League, as much as he can on limited information. He tells her to reconnect with her family, he’s there when Laurel rejects her. She thinks sometimes about asking him who he his; a name, a city, anything she could use to track him down. But then she thinks about her life, about the things he’s talked about fighting through, and cannot bring herself to drag him into hers.

                Then she’s recruited by Rip Hunter; and something about the resident thief resonates with her. They gravitate toward each other, and she can’t help but think he feels familiar somehow.

                “So how’s that new adventure of yours?” she asks, her back to his as they sit in the cool grass.

                “Not boring, yet.” She feels him shrug, “I think I might have met someone.”

                “Oh?” she can feel the smile tug at her lips. “Is that so?”

                “She’s stubborn, a fighter…She’s also not a total killjoy like most of these hero types.”

                She laughs at that, “well, I’m glad.” She nudges his shoulder with hers. “Have you told her?” He scoffs and she sighs. “Come on man, go get her!”

                “Not now,” the frown is back in his voice, “we have a mission to complete first.”

                “Whatever you say.” She shakes her head.

* * *

                The first few weeks on the Waverider are the same pattern. She spends the day with the team, her evenings winding down with Leonard (and Mick on occasion), and then her nights with her Soulmate in dreams. She may not be able to remember the exact tone of voice, and have no real idea of him physically, but she has grown accustomed to _how_ her soulmate speaks. And, despite the much more guarded nature, she finds an uncanny resemblance in one Leonard Snart.

                So one night, as they sit side by side with their feet dipped in a creek she drops the name. His feet instantly stilling next to hers. “What?”

                “I’m right aren’t I?” She chuckles, “I told you I’d learn your name.” But then he’s gone, the river turns cold and disappears as the dream world fades to black. It’s not long before she’s stirred by several sharp knocks at her door. A smile tugging at her lips as she fights the covers off and makes her way to the door.

                Leonard is on the other side, smirk in place as he looks down at her. But the uncertainty of his voice betrays his nervousness. “Hey, little bird.”

                She smiles, “Hello _Soulmate_.”

                And then he’s in her space, pulling her into an embrace as the door shuts behind them. She responds with a surprised noise, but happily snuggles into his chest. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, drawl all but gone.

                “For what?” she pulls back enough to see him, hands coming up to cradle his face. “You have always been there, giving me something to fight for, promising me that I had what it takes.” She can’t help the small smile as he leans, just slightly, into her touch. “I’m sorry it took me so long to figure it out.” She frowns, “Though I’m surprised you didn’t put the pieces together first.”

                He offers a wry smile, “Oh, but I did little bird.”

                “Then why didn’t you –“

                “Because I was afraid of being wrong.” He cuts in, “The idea that the amazing, beautiful woman who was slowly working her way in my life; and the loving, brilliant soulmate of my dreams were the same person?” he releases a slow exhale, “That’s not the kind of miracle thieves get.”

                “Well _, Crook_.” She smiles, thumb brushing over his cheek as his eyes drift closed. “Maybe the universe decided to give us both a break, just once.”

                He pulls her closer, head resting atop hers. “To be honest, I don’t care why.” Neither one dares to move, afraid to wake up and find they’ve dreamed it all. But he wakes with her still curled onto his chest, decides that maybe being a hero with her wouldn’t be so bad.

* * *

                After the Oculus Sara refuses to sleep. Terrified of the silence she knows awaits her on the other side. She goes days without sleep, running on caffeine and pure willpower, allowing herself only minutes of rest to keep functioning.

                But even League training only takes her so far, and eventually she collapses. She finds herself back in their field; and somehow that’s even worse. She makes her way over to the tree they’d spent so many nights talking at, hand pressed to the bark as she takes an uneven breath. “Damn it, Len,” her voice trembles, “I need you, now more than ever…and you had to play hero.”

                “I thought that’s what you wanted,” She spins, turning to face the other figure, one brow above the other.

                “Len?” she chokes, stumbling toward him.

                “Hey, little bird.” He catches her, pulling her into an embrace.

                “You died,” she states, clinging to his shirt.

                “Apparently time has other plans,” he nuzzles the crook of her neck, “I’ve been trying to catch you, tell you I’m back in Central City.” He sighs, “But I couldn’t seem to find your sleep schedule.”

                “I haven’t really had one…” her voice is muffled against his collar, and he pulls back.

                “Why?” his eyes narrow, “What’s happening?”

                “You were gone.” She looks at him, “and I didn’t want to be here…without you.”

                An almost smile tugs at his lips, but his gaze is serious as it holds hers. “We are going to talk about you not taking care of yourself.” He softens, hand slipping down until they meet hers, fingers entwining. “But first, you need to come pick me up. 2017, come by STAR labs.”

                She just nods, soaking in the relief of his presence. “I’ll see you soon,” He smiles, kissing her on the head; before he can say more she pulled almost violently back to the Waverider. She knows from the lighting that she’s in med-bay, gentle beeping behind her, and the monitor unpleasant around her wrist. She sits up, willing away the dizziness as she fumbles with the wrist strap.

                “Easy, Blondie.” Mick places a hand on hers, “You’re s’posed to take it easy.”

                “Not now Mick,” she gets the cuff off, grabbing the man’s arm for support as she gets off the table. “I need to talk to Rip, we have to go back to Central.”

                His brow furrows, “What for?”

                She looks up, “Gideon, tell Rip we’re changing course.” Grinning widely her attention shifts to Mick. “Len’s waiting for us.”


	7. Shared pain, shared comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where you and your soulmate share an emotional link.   
> &  
> The one where soulmates share extreme physical sensation — if one gets hurt, the other gets hurt, etc.  
> ~  
> Established relationship  
> S1

* * *

                He stands at her door, trying to clear his head before knocking. “Who is it?” Sara answers, as bright as usual.

                “It’s me,” is all he can manage, relieved when the door opens.

                She’s turned away from him, fiddling with something on her desk. “You know, when I said to work things out with Mick this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

                She turns, and he tastes bile. Her cheek is puffy and swollen, skin darkening around both of her eyes. He sees flashes of his mother, still smiling as she tucked him in after Lewis had beaten her. “Sara,” his voice cracks. She settles on her bed, motioning for him to sit next to her. Instead he sinks to his knees in front of her, head pressed softly to her knees. “I’m so sorry.”

                “Hey,” he feels one hand run over his head before settling at his jaw, tilting his head up to face her. “It’s okay Len.”

                “No, it’s not!” he growls, and she recoils slightly as he rises to pace. “I swore I would never become the man my father was.” He looks at her, “But here I am.”

                “This wasn’t your fault.” She rises slowly, and the compassion he feels from her just makes his guilt so much worse.

                “It may as well have been.” He looks at her, struggling to keep his voice even. “I didn’t even put up a fight. I deserved this,” he runs a hand over his head, “But now you’re the one paying for my mistake.”

                She walks over, finger rising to softly trace a scar through the shirt on his shoulder. “This mark? This was when I got into a fight with Nyssa over a mistake I made on a mission. And here,” her hand slides down to his, brushing over his knuckle, “Ollie broke several bones in my hand during training, angry that I went out alone.” She reaches up, hand gentle on his bruised jaw. “People like us don’t always show we care in the best way.”

                “Which is exactly why you deserve better,” he cradles the less swollen cheek, and she leans into his touch. “Especially from someone who is supposed to be your soulmate.”

                “I don’t care what I deserve,” she reaches up to keep his hand against her face, “I choose you.” She looks at him, her loyalty and affection coming clearly across the bond. “No matter what.”

                He drops his head onto her shoulder, allowing her to pull his larger frame into an embrace. “I don’t know what to do,”

                “I know,” she soothes, and he allows himself to hide in the warmth of her, of the emotions radiating off her even now. “And we’ll figure it out tomorrow, for tonight let me look after you.” She takes one step back, and instantly he craves the contact, a sign of just how broken he’s become. She leads him over to the bed, kneeling next to his seated form as she pulls out some kind of topical ointment. “Something I picked up from the League, it helps with the swelling and soreness.” She gently begins applying it to his battered face, lips pulled up in a half smile. “We’re still going to look like hell for a few days though.”

                He watches her, allowing her to anchor him as the tides of his choices, past and future, crash around him. “I am sorry,”

                “You’re human Len,” her thumb brushes along his cheek. “No matter what you may want others to believe.” Her hands fall back to her lap, “You are allowed to hurt.” She turns, placing the small jar on a shelf before returning her attention to him. “Stay Len, let me have this one night?”

                He’s to tired to argue, just nods and lets her shift him so he’s under the sheets. He does resist her pushing him back, “I’m sleeping on the outside,”

                She offers a little smile, carefully climbing over him. “Alright.”

                Once they are both under the covers he expects her to curl against his chest as she does when the nightmares have woken her. But instead she pulls him closer, tucking his head beneath her chin and resting her arm protectively around him. Under normal circumstances he would fight, would argue and refuse to be comforted like a child. But he can feel that she thinks no less of him, that comforting him is her only goal. And so he concedes, for just one night, and lets her hold him.


	8. In every lifetime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where only your soulmate can kill you.  
> &  
> The one where soulmates are reincarnated and keep finding each other throughout their different lives.  
> ~  
> Established relationship (sorta?)  
> S1 (Sorta?)

* * *

                Sara is chained, dirty and bruised on the cell floor. She doesn’t know how long it’s been since she last slept, her dreams nothing but nightmares. She sees things that aren’t there, is pretty sure they’ve drugged her. She’s in that place between awake and asleep when she hears the cell door creak open, sees the shadowed figure.

                She acts on instinct, has just enough strength to swing up and pull the figure down. She feels their body impact the ground. She pops her already bruised thumbs out of their sockets so she can get out of the chains. Then she’s on top of the figure, and finally she realizes they aren’t fighting her back. And that there is something slick on her hands.

                Her mind settles from it’s fight or flight response, and she realizes it’s a familiar figure beneath her. “Leonard,” she breathes, fear settling in her gut as she realizes the pool of blood forming beneath his head.

                Somehow she manages to get his unconscious body up, getting them both out of the place she is being held, finds refuge in a cave at nightfall. She’s stopped the bleeding from his skull, but she knows this won’t end well. She pushes the thought aside, building a fire before settling next to him.

                “Sara?” he shifts, voice weak, but she’s got his hand in hers seconds later.

                “I’m right here.” She pulls his hand to her face.

                “So much for rescuing you,” he laughs, winces a moment later. “You got me this time huh?”

                She nods, holding back tears. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was you…I just-“

                “It’s okay,” he forces an almost smile, eyes only half focused before he lets them close. “I should have been more careful. ‘sides,” he takes a slow breath, “I shot you last life.” He forces his eyes open once more, “I’m just sorry you have to be alone.”

                “I’ll see you soon,” she leans down to let her forehead rest against his.

                “And I’ll get to fall in love with you all over again.” He smiles, her lips brushing his softly.

                He passes soon after, and she’s left in the cave with her soulmates body in her arms. She cries, sobs against his leather clad chest and curses the universe for this never-ending dance.

* * *

                “Sara!” the voice wakes her, shooting up nearly straight in her bed before her punch is caught by large warm hands. “Easy there,” The dream fades, those crystal blue eyes looking back at her and a frown on his lips. “It sounded like you were having a hell of a nightmare.”

                She looks at him, the man who both is, and is not, her lover. “Yeah,” she composes herself, but he keeps her hand between his. “Thanks.”

                He shrugs, “Figured you would rather have me do it than one of the others.” His head tilts slightly, and it’s so familiar it hurts. “You alright?”

                She sees the questions in his eyes, the offer to listen. “I’m good,” she smiles, then runs a hand through her hair. “But, I wouldn’t mind some company?”

                “Of course,” he smirks, shifting to sit on the bed next to her. She settles against his side, allowing the warmth of him to wash over her. Rip had pulled them from different points in time; and this man was guarded and had taken months to get comfortable with her. But there was a warmth in his gaze that hadn’t been there when they ‘met’ on the rooftop. One of these days he would remember her, remember what they were, she’d waited centuries to see him again, what was a few more months?


	9. Goodbye on my arm - 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where your soulmate’s last words to you are tattooed on your body  
> ~  
> Pre-relationship  
> S1

* * *

                Leonard had never been overly invested in the idea of soulmates. Statistically the chances of ending up with them were slim to none. And even if you were one of the lucky few to find them, the moment you found out was when you lost them. So why even bother? Besides, the only thing on his arm is _‘No.’_ A word he’s heard his whole life, one he’ll continue to hear. He stopped even thinking about what it might be like to have a Soulmate.

                Sara had always hoped to find her soulmate, but at the same time she didn’t want to lose the most important person in her world. She tried to ignore the words down her arm _‘Just do it’_ in bold black ink. As a teen she’d expected to lose her soulmate doing something dumb but fun…but now, after the Gambit, the League, even just life as a vigilante, she suspects something more sinister. So she searched out more than one partner, they couldn’t all be her soulmate, but she could love all of them as if they were.

.

.

                Leonard leans slightly, right hand still firmly pressed on the dead-man switch while he props the cold gun up against Mick with his left. He’d almost hesitated before knocking his partner out, but his gut told him that he had finally found his soulmate, and they had one conversation left.

                He wasn’t surprised when Sara came running up, but time was of the essence. “Get him out of here,” he growls, motioning to Mick.

                “No,” and somehow the one word, which he’s heard a million times before, hits him like a punch to the gut.

                “Just do it,” it’s half order, half pleading. Because one of them has to die here, but he refuses to let it take both of their lives. The way she looks at him, as if she’s suddenly been struck, confirms his suspicion that they were paired. She doesn’t argue, doesn’t need too. As she steps up to his side, eyes meeting his, he can see so much. There’s heartache at all they will never find out, there’s that rebellious streak saying that she’s looking for a way out even now, but there’s warmth that pulls at his heart most. He has no time to catalog further as she uses his arm as leverage to pull up, warm lips pressing firmly to his. An apology, forgiveness, a wish on ‘what if’

                When she pulls away it takes him a moment to realize he’s closed his eyes. She’s watching him, and he desperately wants to say he’s sorry; sorry he didn’t try sooner, sorry she didn’t get someone better, sorry they’ll never know what could be. But it’s not his nature to apologize, and he can see she already knows with the one last glance she offers before taking their teammates to safety.

.

.

                When Sara gets back on the ship part of her still wants to turn back, to rescue Leonard. The other part knows she can’t, his words mocking her where they are tattooed on her skin. They take off, the Oculus explodes and something inside cracks. She’d run from Nyssa when she’d become afraid the woman might be her soulmate, afraid to get any closer to someone she may lose. But now, Leonard’s wring clutched in her palm, she finds that not knowing is worse. Not knowing what it would be like to wake up warm in his arms after a mission, not knowing what it would have been like to meet his crew, not knowing his morning habits, or the way he unwinds when no one was around. With Nyssa she would always have memories, but with Leonard she would only have ‘What if?’


	10. Goodbye on my arm - 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where you know the last words your soulmate will ever say to you. You don’t know you met them till you lose them.  
> ~  
> Pre-relationship  
> S2

* * *

                 Sara undoes the rope from Malcolm’s hands once they are inside his apartment, she knows they are both aware a fight will do no good for either side. He rubs his wrists, turning to look at her. “I’m impressed Ta-er, I didn’t expect you to leave Dahrk alive this long.”

                “Damien will get what’s coming to him.” Sara glares, “Ollie makes sure of that.”

                “And Leonard?” The man’s voice is still calm, head tilting. “Are you taking him back to get what he deserves too?”

                “Leonard Snart becomes a hero,” she glares.

                “Leonard Snart dies, forgotten as one of Central Cities most wanted thieves.” He taunts.

                “Leonard isn’t dead,” it’s a reflexive statement, and she instantly bites her lip before adding, “no one knows what happened out there.”

                Malcolm is grinning at her, something dark and twisted. “Whatever you say, Canary.”

                She battles her bloodlust, and without another word she turns and makes her way out of the apartment and back to the ship. She rubs at her arm, at the words written in looping script there. Leonard hadn’t said them at the Oculus, he couldn’t be dead. Some little voice reminds her that he may not be her soulmate…she pushes it aside as she opens the door to the room with the holding cell.

                “All right, Malcom is back in 2016 where he belongs.” She makes her way to the front of the cell. Damien is lounging in a chair at the back, while Leonard uses his shoulder to hold up one of the cell walls on her right. She almost smiles at him.

                “In prison?” Damien asks, and she just glares through the reinforced glass.

                “No,” she forces an overly sweet smile. “His crappy apartment.”

                “And what are your plans for the two of us?” Leonard moves to stand directly across from her. “We’re dead in 2017 remember?” The words are like a punch to her gut, the outline of them almost burning against her skin.

                “I’m not taking you back to 2017.” She manages with a tight smile, torn between running and trying to memorize how the light reflects off the ice of his eyes.

                She makes it out of the holding cell, somehow reaches her room and sinks with her back to the bed and a bottle of booze in her hand. The alcohol mixes with the metallic taste of the blood from where she’d bitten her lip to hold the tears at bay.

                There’s a sharp knock at the door, Mick’s familiar gruff voice on the other side. “Boss?”

                She swipes at her eyes, rising to her feet as she motions the door to open. “What is it Mick?”

                He regards her for a moment; eyes dropping to the bottle by the bed, then to where her sleeve is pushed up before finally meeting her gaze once more. He softens just slightly, and somehow that kindness just makes the ache worse. “He said them didn’t he?”

                She nods, afraid what may come out if she tries to speak. Instead she just moves further into the room, this time settling on the edge of her bed as he steps in and closes the door. “When it didn’t happen at the Oculus…I always hoped it mean he’d be back.” She feels the tears threatening to spill over once more. “But now he’s gone.”

                “He told me once,” Mick leans back against her desk, watching her carefully. “That he thought you might be his match.” He shrugs, “Think it was one of the few times I actually saw ‘im smile.”

                She doesn’t fight the tear as it slides down her cheek, forcing a shuddering breath. “I just wish we’d had more time.”

                He nods, “I miss him too.” He waits until her eyes meet his, then tilts his head in question. “Came to see if you wanted to take him back?”

                She shakes her head, “I don’t think I could face him again, not now.” She scrubs the tears from her face, forces a small smile. “You go, you deserve to get a goodbye.”

                “A’right,” he straightens, hesitating before her. “You gonna be okay?”

                She nods, “Yeah…I just, need a little time.”

                He offers a gentle squeeze to her shoulder, the silent support she’d come to count on from the larger man. As the door closes behind him she slides to the floor once more, quiet sobs escaping her lips.

                She’d known how well they mixed, how comfortable she felt when he was around. She liked the person she was becoming with him and Mick at her side…she’d never told him that, never told him she cared.

_And now he’s gone._


	11. World on repeat (until I met you)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day you and your soulmate should meet happens over and over again till you meet properly.  
> ~  
> Pre-relationship  
> S1

* * *

                Sara wakes, releasing a loud groan as she glares at the ceiling of the hotel in Tibet. Two weeks, fourteen days…of the same day. She wants to scream (considers it, because no one but her will remember anyway). Instead she gets up, gets dressed, goes through her day until she meets Captain Rip Hunter in the hole-in-the-wall of a bar.

                She blinks her eyes open on the roof, listens to the others questioning why they are here, listens to Rip’s grandiose speech about being legends that save the earth. She’s mostly tuned him out by now, keeps her from sarcastically mimicking his words…that happened several loops back, it led to far too many questions.

                She wonders how many more ways she can relive this day, how many more ways she and her soulmate can screw-up their first meeting. She watches as the sky burns red with Rip’s projection, and even now it tugs at her. She may not want kids, but Laurel always has. And while her nieces or nephews wouldn’t live to the exact vision shown before her, they would likely be alive when Vandal came into power.

                The second time through she’d talked to Oliver, who’d talked her out of it because they are infinitely pessimistic of strangers. The first time she’d knocked Rip out before he could flash her in the first place. She’s explored Tibet, and explored Central City some as well.

                After it became clear she was dealing with the horrors of her personal groundhog day she started cornering other people. After all, they should also be remembering the loops. At this point it’s either a stranger she bumps into on the streets of Tibet, or it’s a member of Rip’s new team. Her money is on the latter.

                Kendra and Carter take only a brief conversation to learn they are in fact soulmates. She’d cornered Rip early on, thinking he was somehow causing the loop, definitely not him. The Professor, Stein, is already married to his soulmate. To her relief Jax and Raymond are both clueless when she asks. That leaves Leonard Snart and Mick Rory, criminals known as Captain Cold and Heat Wave. One upside to reliving the same day but retaining your memories is the ability to research your would-be partners.

                Rip’s handing the professor the address they are to meet at, and she begins to slip away. She’s reached the ground floor, intending to sneak through an alley and follow the pair back to whatever building they are using as a safe house.

                “Sara, isn’t it?” The drawl causes her to spin, Leonard leaning against the alley wall.

                “That’s right,” she steps closer, but still out of his reach. Soulmates don’t mean safety, not really. “And you’re Captain Cold.”

                He nods, “I see you’ve done your homework.” He’s smirking, a curious light in those icy eyes.

                “You seemed, distracted, tonight.” His brow quirks up.

                “And how would you know what I look like when I’m distracted?” she replies, arms crossing over her chest. “Shouldn’t you have been paying attention to Rip?”

                “We both know how useless that would be.” He frowns, “he manages to say the exact same thing, regardless of the little changes with the others.”

                “So,” she takes another step, and he tenses somewhat. She retreats out of his space, watching him curiously. “What do we do now?”

                “Well, assuming we actually move forward, I suppose I’ll see you in thirty-six hours.” He replies, pushing off the wall.

                “I haven’t agreed to go on this ridiculous trip yet.” She quirks a brow at him.

                “Neither have I,” he’s smirking again, turning to walk back toward the street. He pauses, turning back to look where’s she’s watching him. “And it’s Len, for the few that stay.”

                Then he’s disappeared into the night once more. Sara smiles to herself, making her way to the bus stop that will take her back to Star city for the night. Her mind lingers on Leonard Snart, on all the possibilities.

Soulmates aren’t safe, but Sara has always loved a little danger.


	12. Ice & Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your body temperature is determined by the distance between you and your soulmate . The closer you are to your soulmate the warmer you are. The farther you are away the colder it feels.  
> ~  
> Pre-relationship  
> S1

* * *

                Leonard Snart has always been cold. If he has a soulmate they lived on the opposite side of he world, and he doubts they will ever cross paths. It’s why he’s always dressed so warmly, fighting the chill that has simply become a part of him. The cold gun, and Captain Cold persona seemed only fitting. Then came the rooftop and the way his skin burns.

                By the time they return from the bar he’s nearly positive it’s Sara, and he realizes some small part of him has begun to hope. Hope that perhaps the blonde woman could accept him. But he quickly squashes that part of himself, buries it beneath logic and the icy persona he still wears. He’s a criminal, and while she has a darker origin he’s pretty sure Sara will come out to be more hero than he can compare too. Still, he enjoys her company. The pair spending evenings playing cards, or merely sharing a room while they read or drink coffee. Before long the burning sensation is replaced with something much more mild and easy. He likes the feeling, even if he and Sara both avoid any mention of it.

                Then comes Chronos, the tendrils of ice returning as Sara is left behind. Now that he’s felt warm, the freezing is almost unbearable. And when Mick lands them to finish his business with the rest of the crew Leonard feels warmth creeping back into his chest. _Sara’s close, Sara’s in danger._ The words loop in his head, almost as unbearable as the idea of Mick taking Lisa away from him. And so he breaks off a hand, because there simply isn’t time to find an alternative.

                He navigates entirely by the fluctuations in temperature, only changing to his other senses when he can hear the team. The fever is back as he rounds that last corner, Sara’s eyes snapping up to his. Back on the Waverider Gideon repairs his hand, it’s strange, and the lack of scars, of callouses and strength is disturbing at best.

                Sara slips into his room that evening, something between fear and relief in her stormy eyes. “Can we talk?”

                “No one’s stopping you,” he replies from where’s he’s reclined on his bed, tossing a strength ball Gideon had provided him.

                “I know it’s our unspoken rule…that we don’t talk about…” she trails off, and he watches as she shifts her weight. “I just want you to know, that those two years.” She shakes her head, “I don’t ever want to feel that cold again.”

                He sighs, and she turns to leave. “Sara, wait.” She freezes, turning back to look at him curiously. He just waves her over, patting the bed in front of him. She accepts, moving to sit at his hip. “I’m sorry.”

                “For what?” she tilts her head.

                “You all being stranded was my fault, if I hadn’t-“ He’s cut off by a hand resting over his.

                “No Len, it was Mick’s choice.” She shakes her head, “The team should never have put that burden on you in the first place.”

                Any retort is lost as her skin burns against his, and he looks up at her. “Is your skin always this hot, Assassin?”

                She shakes her head, “no, or at least it hadn’t been once we were spending time together. But apparently being in different times for two years undoes all that.” She shrugs, “I think it should fade in a few weeks.” She moves her hand from his, “don’t worry about it.”

                “Does contact make it even out any more quickly?” he asks, watching her shift.

                “I don’t know?” she frowns, “I haven’t investigated, I didn’t want you feeling obligated.”

                He scoffs, “I don’t do anything I don’t want to, Canary,” he tugs at one arm so she leans back into him. He tenses instinctively, but when she tries to pull away he drapes one arm over her waist. “Just, stay.” The request is so quiet she hardly hears, but she doesn’t struggle. Instead she shifts, tucking into his side and pillowing her head on one shoulder.

                Her skin is hot where it touches his, and the whole situation isn’t even in the vicinity of his comfort zone. But Sara’s discomfort is his fault, and if there’s even a chance the contact will help he has to take it. And, if he’s honest, he feels better with her beside him right now. Everything with Mick is…complicated. But the idea of whatever his partner has become hurting Sara makes him nauseous.

                And so he keeps her close, even as her skin burns against his, even as every instinct he has says to run. For Sara’s part her whole demeanor has shifted; the nervous energy from the doorway has melted into what he wants to label contentment. That tiny thread of hope surfaces once more, this time he decides maybe it’s worth the risk.


	13. Young Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You stop aging at 18 till you meet your soulmate.  
> ~  
> Established relationship  
> S2  
> Mentions of Mixen/Foxfire

* * *

                “Do you think they’ve figured it out yet?” Sara asks, laying another card between them on his bed.

                “I think Mick knows, doubt he’ll bring it up.” Leonard shakes his head.

                “She’ll catch on,” Sara smiles, “she’ll talk to him.”

                “I hope so,” Leonard places another card.

                “If we can get past our issues, they’ll get past theirs.” She looks up at him.

                He hums his agreement, “If they don’t get caught up in the relief of finally ‘growing up’”

                She grins, crawling toward him on the small bed. “I don’t know,” she pushes the cards to the side, “young bodies have their benefits.”

                He chuckles, hand settling at her hip as she presses a soft kiss to his lips. She promptly settles at his side, his arm draping around her. “I’m sure they will figure that out too.” He sighs, resting his head on her shoulder.

                She smiles, reaching up to run a hand through his dark curls. “You’ve let it grow out.”

                He shrugs, “I do now and then, I’ll cut it soon.”

                “I like it,” she turns her head enough to press a kiss to his head. “But then, I like you however you choose to be.”

                He smiles, and though Sara knows he’s some years her senior, it’s a boyish look that warms her. “You’re too good for me.” he traces along one of her exposed arms.

                “The universe disagrees.” She watches his long fingers trail up her arm, wonders what it might have been like to have found him before so much darkness and trauma had overshadowed their lives. “Or maybe it just knew our broken pieces would fit together.”


	14. Not dead yet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You feel when your soulmate is about to die and can help prevent it.  
> ~  
> Pre-relationship  
> S1

* * *

                Leonard finally gives in to his desire to sit, his body crying out in protest at the continually dropping temperatures. He really needs to get a second battery for his gun, or Gideon needs an override to prevent crew members from getting locked into lethal rooms. Sara draws his attention as she settles at his side, and he forgives the proximity on the account of conserving what little heat they have left.

                They talk, and he figures the longer it keeps her awake the better. He’s had this sinking, aching feeling in his chest that he’s pushing aside in favor of trying to keep Sara alive. It’s not until she falls silent, her body beyond the point of shivering that the pain in his chest overpowers the numbness of the cold. Some part of his mind wonders why it hurts when his soulmate is long dead…maybe death just hurts.

                He’s about to give up himself, when Gideon announces that Ray has sealed the breach. She says she’s going to raise the temperature, but that he and Sara should remain in the room so she can do so gradually. As the ice begins to melt, Sara stirs at his side and he feels relieved, the pain a blurred memory.

                But Sara remains somber, and he nudges her. “You alright, Lance?”

                She looks up, frown still in place. “I’m fine…I just.” She runs a hand through her hair, “you know how they say you can sense when your soulmate is about to die?” He nods, but makes no comment. “I think..” her mouth becomes a thin line.

                “Are you saying your soulmate chose the same time to die as us?” His brow quirks up.

                “I don’t know,” her brow furrows. “Do they ever say if there’s a way to know…if your soulmate gets saved?”

                “I’ve heard,” he drawls, eyes roaming the small room. “That the pain is worse if they die.”

                “But what if you have no reference?” she shakes her head, “Nevermind.”

                He’s silent a moment, his mind returning to that night years prior. To the paralyzing pain that had dropped him during a heist, the way he couldn’t breath for hours. “Your soulmate isn’t dead.”

                 “And how would you know?” she glares.

                _The same way you know how dying feels._ The words are caught in his throat, his mind suddenly fitting the pieces together. Sara had said dying was lonely, the pain he felt was to encompassing to be lonely. “Sara,” he looks at her, and the anger in her gaze melts into something else. “You died.”

                She nods, “We’ve established that.”

                “When?” He questions, focus entirely on her as his mind begins to spin.

                She offers a puzzled expression, “2014 –“

                “October?” he asks.

                She nods more slowly this time, “Yeah…how did you?”

                “It’s hard to forget that kind of pain.” He replies, voice strained.

                Her eyes widen, “Leonard…are you saying?”

                He’s on his feet now, pacing before her. “It would explain how we were both alerted to our soulmate’s distress, while freezing to death ourselves.”

                “You felt it too?” she asks, surprise in her voice as she stands.

                He nods, “Yes, but I pushed it aside.” He offers a wry smile, “After all, my soulmate died years ago.”

                She laughs, a sound of relief as she steps closer. As their eyes meet hers shift to something softer, sadder. “I’m sorry you had to go through that because of me.”

                He steps into her space, the adrenaline of their near death still overriding his usual need for distance. “I’m just glad it didn’t take.”

                “Let’s try and keep it that way?” The corner of her lip quicks up, “so tell me, Crook, what now?”

                He looks at her for a moment, still processing the fact that his soulmate is alive…and standing before him. “Now, we go check on Kendra and the Boyscout.” He smirks, “And later, we play cards?”

                She seems to understand his unspoken request for time, offering a small nod. Though she walks just a little closer to him, shoulder occasionally brushing against his as they move down the halls.

                Leonard had always thought it a cruel joke that the universe only told you a person was meant to be in your life when they were dying. But right now, it made him almost grateful that Raymond was horrible at ship repairs.


	15. A glimpse of happiness - Sara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where you switch bodies with your future self in a time when future you has already met their soulmate. The switch is temporary and how long the switch is varies by person.  
> ~  
> Established Relationship

* * *

                Sara wakes to a dark room, but for the first time in months she doesn’t feel the rocking of the ship, or hear the sound of the water. Before she can focus on that she feels someone shift in the bed behind her, a hand settling at her hip.

                “No!” she half cries, pulling herself away and pressing into the furthest corner of the bed.

                “What’s wrong?” a voice, unfamiliar and rough with sleep comes from the darkness.

                “No…” she almost whimpers. “I told him I would help. He said I could have a room, said,” she breaks off on a sob, and suddenly the room is bathed in the soft light from a lamp.

                “Sara?” She can see the speaker now, a stranger with short salt and pepper hair, still covered by a sheet beside her. He’s propped himself up on one arm, frown etched onto his lips and sharp blue eyes watching her with concern. “It’s just a nightmare,” his voice is soft, but as he reaches out to touch her she recoils further. Is to focused on herself to see the pain in his eyes, the way he pulls his hand back as if struck.

                “Please,” she pleads. “Tell Ivo I will do whatever it is he wants…” Tears are blurring her eyes; she misses home, misses Oliver and her sister and having a door that locks so she doesn’t have to live in this constant fear of waking to a stranger’s touch.

                She hears the man’s sharp intake of breath, and when she forces herself to focus he’s sitting up completely, hands resting at his sides. “Sara, I’m not one of…them. I won’t hurt you, you’re safe.”

                “There is nowhere here that is safe,” she sneers.

                “You’re not on the Amazo right now,” something about his voice, the almost drawl to it, is soothing to her. “Breathe, take in your surroundings, there are no threats here.”

                She forces herself to take slow breaths, her eyes quickly adjusting to the dim lights. She cannot see a lot of the room, but she can make out enough to know this room isn’t on the ship. She wants to believe him, that she’s escaped, been rescued. But she knows better, “then where am I?”

                “A safehouse in Central City,” he answers.

                “Pretty vivid dream…” she muses, “don’t think I’ve ever invented a safehouse before.”

                “Not a dream, little bird.” There’s an almost smile on his lips, “you just have a lot of adventures left to get here.”

                She freezes at that, looking up at this man who’s watching her patiently. “You’re my….that means I…”

                “Yes,” he replies gently. Moving fractionally closer, but never touching her. “You make it off Lian’yu, you survive trials and tests and come out stronger.” There’s a soft adoration in his eyes, and it warms her in ways she didn’t know were still possible. “You steal my heart,” he chuckles, “an accomplishment in itself.”

                “Why did you call me little bird?” she blurts, mind running in so many circles.

                He smirks, and _wow that’s attractive_. “Spoilers.”

                “Well can I at least know your name?” she frowns.

                He nods, “Leonard.” He shrugs slightly, “but you usually prefer Len.”

                “Len,” she tests it, nodding to herself before looking back at him. “Am I…I mean, are we good?”

                “Yes.” He doesn’t hesitate for even a moment. “Assuming you mean are we good together.” That smirk is back, a sparkle of mischief in his eyes. “good people on the other hand….that depends on who you ask.”  Sara bites her lip, opening her mouth to speak then deciding against it. “I know that look.” His head tilts slightly, “What is it?”

                “Would it be okay if we…. just lay down for a little while?” she feels her face flushing a bit at the ridiculousness of her request.

                He softens, stretching out on the bed once more. “Whatever you want, Sara.” She carefully uncurls herself, moving slowly to his side before laying down next to him. Scooting forward until his chin is nearly touching her head, only a breath between their bodies. “Do you want me to touch you at all?” he asks carefully. She just nods, focusing on keeping her breathing even. Again a hand comes to settle ever so gently on her waist, his breath dancing in her hair. “Okay?”

                Something about the understanding, the lack of irritation or judgment in his voice breaks her. “Yeah,” her voice cracks, tears pooling in her eyes as she presses closer to his chest. And she cannot help but wonder how damaged she must become; that her soulmate is so well practiced at handling her in this state.

His thumb moves in soft circles at her waist, and she feels the fingers of his other hand brush through her hair. “You’re safe here,” he whispers, “I’ve got you, Sara.” His grip tightens fractionally, and she feels the tears begin to run down her face. “Just hold on, you have so much more strength than you know.”

                He just holds her, whispering the occasional assurance, never expecting anything. She doesn’t know how long it lasts before her eyes start to get heavy. She tries desperately to stay awake, to cling to this unimaginable future where someone could love her even after what she’s become. Still, as she finally drifts off she decides that she will fight, whatever it takes, to find him again.

* * *

                Sara wakes tucked against Leonard’s chest, an unusual occurrence if she’s not instigated it. His fingers trail gently through her hair, the other hand resting habitually at her hip. “You’re one of the strongest people I know.”

                “Hey,” she pulls back just slightly, looking up at her partner. “you alright, Crook?”

                “Sara?” one hand comes up to frame her face.

                “Who else would I be?” As her eyes adjust to the dim light she realizes his eyes are misted with tears, and she feels herself tense. “What’s going on?”

                “You were,” he takes a slow breath, thumb brushing against her cheek. “I’m sorry, Sara…I’m sorry I couldn’t stop what happened on that damned island.”

                Realization hits her, treasured, protected memories of a soulmate who held her when she was trapped in Hell. “Len,” she reaches up to cradle his face in her hands. “You did so much more than you know.” She shakes her head, “I’m just sorry you had to see me like that.”

                He pulls her against his chest once more, her hands settling on his nightshirt as he presses a kiss to her temple. “Never again.” His grip at her waist tightens slightly, “I won’t let it happen.”

                “I know,” she presses a kiss to his collar. She pulls back just enough to look at him, smile pulling softly at her lips. “and having you is worth everything it took to end up on that rooftop.”

                He kisses her then, slow and soft as one hand cradles the back of her head. When they break apart he keeps their faces close, nose brushing against hers as he speaks. “I love you, Sara Lance. More than anything.”

                “Listen to you, getting soft on me.” It’s half-tease, half adoring before she yawns and tucks herself against his chest once more.

                She feels the soft chuckle more than hears it, his lips pressed against the top of her head. “Sleep, we’ll talk more in the morning.” He reaches behind, flipping off the lamp before his arm settles over her once more.

                “G’night.” She settles, warm and content in his arms. “Love you.”

                That night he holds her just a little closer, keeps her in his arms a little longer. To remind himself that she’s okay; that the frightened, broken girl he’d seen mere hours ago becomes the brilliant woman in his arms now. And in the back of his mind, as he finally begins to drift off, he decides that maybe it’s time to buy that ring after all.


	16. A glimpse of happiness - Leonard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where you switch bodies with your future self in a time when future you has already met their soulmate. The switch is temporary and how long the switch is varies by person.  
> ~  
> Established Relationship

* * *

                Leonard’s first thought as he wakes is that the newest bruise on his arm doesn’t hurt like he’d expected. His second thought is that the bed he’s in is bigger than his twin. He forces his eyes open, tensing as he finds himself in a strange room. He quickly rises to his feet, greeted by a chorus of pops and cracks he’s not used to hearing from his body.

                The bedroom is simple, but not unadorned. There’s a dresser, bookshelves lining one wall that have photo frames and a wide variance of book spines. He pads across the carpeted floor to the attached bathroom, freezing as he finds an unfamiliar reflection in the mirror. The man looking back at him is…old. His hair is more silver than not, there are lines on his face and age in his eyes.

                “Len?” A female voice drifts through the room. “I thought you were coming through for breakfast?” He jerks his head to face the speaker who has appeared in the doorway of the bathroom. She’s shorter than him, silver lines in her golden hair and laugh lines that appear when she smiles at him. But it quickly fades, her eyes narrowing at him. “What’s wrong?”

                “Who the hell are you?” He looks at her, half in wonder and half in defense. “Where am I?”

                She tenses at first, but after only a moment she softens. “You’re home.” He’s about to disagree when she adds, “how old are you right now?”

                “Twenty-four,” he replies, the question catching him off guard.

                She softens, further. “You never would tell me,” she laughs, and even in this strange place the sound settles him a little. “Come on, let’s get coffee.” She reaches out to touch him and he pulls away, a flash of hurt in her eyes before she shakes her head and lets her hand drop. “Sorry,” she motions out of the bathroom. “I’ll answer your questions, but coffee first.”

                He follows, seeing no better option. They go down a short hallway, past a living room and into what appears to be a breakfast nook. Two steaming mugs are on the table, bacon and toast on plates between them. They settle across from each other, and she lifts her mug to her lips before tilting her head at him. “Where am I?” He asks again.

                “Central City,” she replies easily.

                “And who are you?” he questions, captivated for a moment by the way her eyes sparkle.

                “Sara,” is all she says.

                “Who are you to me?” His eyes narrow.

                “You know the answer,” she smirks, “I don’t care how cynical you are, Crook, you’ve heard about seeing the future.”

                “Soulmates?” he says the word distastefully.

                She laughs again, “You asked.” For the first time he notices the gold band on her hand, looking down to find a line on his own finger. She follows his gaze, “It’s your idea.” She smiles, “but I won’t spoil the surprise.”

                “And if I don’t believe you?” he covers his hand.

                “You don’t have to,” she lays her hands over his, and while part of him wants to jerk away…the other half is to caught up in the way she’s looking at him. “But it will get better. For you, for Mick, for Lisa.”

                “Lisa?” he softens at his sister’s name. “She’s happy?”

                “Immensely,” she smiles, “you have a niece and a nephew, they visit often, they adore you.”

                He has so many questions, his mind trying desperately to wrap around all she’s said. He’s torn between burying the hope desperately trying to break through, and embracing the impossible dream she’s woven. He indulges himself in the latter. “And us?” he reaches out, lets his fingers trace across her cheek as she leans into the touch. “Are we happy?”

                She turns, pressing a kiss to his palm. “More than we ever dreamed.”

                He looks at her, a sudden drowsiness coming over him. “I wish I could believe you.”

                “You will,” she comes around the table, cupping his face in her hands. “Just remember Len,” her voice is quiet, but full of conviction. “The Oculus has a failsafe.”

                Before he can ask any more questions the room begins to blur, and he’s jerking awake in his twin bed, bruised arm making itself known. His mind is still spinning as he rises, the woman’s words still echoing in his head. He buries it all, until years later those same blue eyes are looking at him on a rooftop.


	17. Messages on your wrist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you write on your skin the same mark appears on the same place as your soulmates. Such as if you doodle on your skin your soulmates gets those doodles on their skin.  
> ~  
> Pre-relationship  
> S1

* * *

                By the time Sara is old enough to understand the marks on her skin it is clear that her soulmate is older than she is. She also learns he’s brilliant with math, and that saves her on more than one pop quiz during high school.

                They never exchange names, but they learn a lot about each other all the same. She knows he has a little sister, (she’s received brightly colored flowers from the girl). He knows she has an older sister, knows her class schedule by the notes she’s written on her hands. His dad’s a jerk, though he won’t say why.

                Then comes the Amazo, comes the desperate cry for help and the punishment by Ivo’s men. His messages continue, and she clings to that hope despite the pain. But then one night they stop…and it kills her more than being prisoner. When she gets to the League she decides it’s best to just forget her pen pal, loses herself in Nyssa and serving Ra’s al Ghul.

                It works for years, and she forgets the elegant script that had once danced up her arm, until one night on the Waverider. She’s in the library, runs out of paper, so she scribbles something on her hand. When she gets back to her room there’s a second line.

_It’s been a long time_

                She pauses, it’s been so long since she’s seen the writing on her skin. She’d forgotten how lovely the script is, though something about it nags at her. She grabs a pen from the bookshelf by her bed.

_Who’s fault is that?_

                There’s a gap, and she thinks they are going to ignore her, when finally a new line begins.

_Let me explain?_

_Fine_

                Part of her isn’t sure she wants the answer. But before she can decide there’s a knock at her door. “Who is it?”

                “Just me,” Comes the muffled male voice.

                She’s debating sending him away, but to be honest cards and a drink sound good. So she tugs down her sleeve and makes her way to the door. Leonard is leaning against the doorframe, one brow rising above the other. “Am I interrupting something?”

                She shakes her head, “Not at all.” She motions for him to come inside, watches him curiously as he makes his way to sit on her bed. “No cards?”

                “Not tonight,” his voice has lost some of it’s drawl, and with a sigh he reaches for the pen still on her bed.

                “What are you doing?” she watches as he pops open the cap, then rolls up one sleeve.

                He offers a sad smile, lowering the tip to his skin. “Explaining.”

                Her eyes widen, and she jerks up the sleeve opposite of where her previous notes were written. There, in her soulmates writing are two words.

_Hello Sara_

                Her eyes return to Leonard, who’s watching her carefully. “You?” her mind races, “How long have you known?”

                “Since we boarded.” He replies, he sees the flash of anger across her features. “And now you wonder why I didn’t tell you?” She nods, and he methodically pulls his sleeve back into place. “Because I didn’t know what I was going to say.”

                “I don’t understand.” She’s pacing before him now. “What changed?”

                “I needed you to know,” he looks at her, “and when you wrote that note on your hand earlier I figured it was better than you learning on a mission.”

                “No Len,” she spins on him. “I mean why did you stop?” Her voice wavers. “I was in hell, you were all I had.”

                “I made it worse!” He looks up at her, sharp tone catching her off guard.

                “What?” she stops, turning to look at him.

                He runs a hand over his head, “You never said what was happening, just _Amazo_ and _help_.” He looks up at her, “you would tell me nothing else.”

                “And that was reason to stop writing?” she looks at him, angry and hurt.

                “No,” he shakes his head, “But what they were doing to you because of me was.” He holds up a hand to silence her protests. “One morning, your captors left a message on our back.”

_She’s ours_

_Words are pain_

                Sara’s never seen him so lost, “They hurt you because of me.”

                “Len,” she sinks onto the bed next to him. “I…I didn’t know.”

                “Of course not,” he looks over at her. “But I couldn’t be the cause of your pain.” He shakes his head, “leaving your pleas unanswered killed me….and then you went silent.” His eyes are pleading, “I searched for you, but…” he trails off, gaze dropping to his hands.

                She reaches out, hesitantly resting her hand over his. “I forgive you.” His gaze moves back up to hers, the tears glistening in her eyes. “And I’m sorry I never told you I got out…”

                 He almost smiles. “All that matters is that you are safe now.”

                She grabs the marker quickly writing on the palm of her hand. He looks down at his own, smirking at the two words. Reaching up he cradles her cheek, leaning in so their noses brush. “With pleasure.” And then his lips press to hers, marker rolling to the ground as she melts against him.


	18. Counting down to you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s a timer on your wrists that counts down to when you meet your soulmate.  
> ~  
> Pre-relationship  
> S1

* * *

                Leonard has never been overly concerned about the timer on his wrist. A soulmate was supposed to be someone who loved him. His mother had claimed to love him, and then abandoned him as a child. The only love his father had shown was with fists and broken bottles. Even Mick’s affection had often come at a painful price. So why should he be overly invested in more people who love him?

                Even so, it’s impossible to completely ignore the display on his wrist, and he wonders about it sometimes. He had given some notice when the weeks had turned into days, particularly when he realized it lined up with a night he’d planned a heist. He half expected it to be a cop, it would fit with the pattern of his life.

                But the night comes, he’s slipping into the getaway car with Mick without anything unexpected. Curiosity wins, and he pulls off a glove to check. There is still time left, but before he can devote more thought to the topic a man has stepped in front of the van and a bright light fills his vision.

                When Leonard Snart wakes he’s on a rooftop with eight others, and a display full of zeros. He should have known the universe wouldn’t just settle for a cop, his soulmate had to be a _hero_. He pushes the thought away as the British man talks, but it nags at his mind as he and Mick make their way back to the safehouse. He wonders how horrified his soulmate will be to find out they’ve been paired with a thief, a criminal. And some little part wonders if perhaps it would be possible to corrupt them, drag them into the darkness alongside him. If for no reason other than to spite the universe for what it has done to him.

                Once on board the ship it becomes a game to keep busy, trying to read the timers of those around him. The hawks are at zero, but also together so marked off his list. He has a history with both Mick and Stein, meaning they are also ruled out regardless of their display. The Boyscout’s timer has run out, but a basic background check reveals he’d been previously engaged, presumably to his soulmate. Jax’s timer still had quite a bit of time remaining.

                Thanks to his long coat Leonard can’t lock onto Rip’s timer; but he refuses to believe even the universe would be so cruel as to chain him to that man. Which just leaves Sara Lance, former assassin and vigilante. And after the night at the bar, he finds himself intrigued by the idea that her timer could have run out alongside his. But it’s hardly a topic he intends to bring up, instead he just pulls his sleeve down a little lower and continues their mission.

                He learns that Rip has been married, and he very much doubts vengeance like this is something one does for anyone less than a soulmate. Further cementing the idea that Sara is his match, and it pulls at his interest more than the idea of a soulmate ever has. Still, the evolution of their friendship happens naturally, from cards and drinks to conversations he’d never dreamed he was going to have.

                When he returns from his face off with Mick in the woods she’s waiting there. “Not now, Assassin.” He’s wet, and he’s tired, and he’s in so much more pain than he knows how to handle.

                She doesn’t speak, and he’s immensely grateful as he makes his way to his quarters and a hot shower. He’s just sunk onto the bed, when the door slides open to reveal Sara and two steaming mugs. She doesn’t wait for an invitation, just makes her way to his side before handing him a mug, her hands wrapped around her own as they both watch the marshmallows melting on the top.

                “Why are you here, Sara?” His voice comes out too tired, “are you going to tell me what a monster I am?” No one had said a word, but he’d seen the way the crew had looked at him.

                “No, I came to thank you,” she pokes at the top of her cocoa, dunking the few remaining chunks of white beneath the surface. “You saved my life today.”

                He looks at her in surprise, but quickly tries to hide it. “Mick is my responsibility.”

                She shakes her head, “that’s not it.” There’s a gentleness, and sorrow in her eyes that he is far to raw to accept right now.

                “What do you want me to say?” He snaps at her, “that I wish I’d done it differently?  I don’t.” he glares. “I’m not a hero Canary.”

                “Neither am I,” she narrows her gaze, “but there’s something else going on here.” She frowns, “You and Mick have been partners for years, do you really expect me to believe a few months with the team could break that?”

                “You want the truth?” He stands, hissing as the hot drink spills onto his hand before he sets it down and pulls up his sleeve. “He targeted you, and in that moment, I realized I was afraid of what would happen if I lost you.” He grits his teeth, “Happy now?”

                She tears her eyes from his timer, up to his face. “You’re my…”

                “Soulmate?” he nods, offering a bark of broken laughter. “Sorry to break the news that you get the no good crook.”

                “Enough!” she stands, every alarm he has sounding at her invasion of his personal space. “I know you’re hurting, that you are looking for somewhere to put all that anger and pain. But this,” she grabs his arm, her timer pressed to his. “You don’t get to assume how I feel.”

                She reaches up with her free hand to rest it along his clenched jaw, forcing him to meet her stubborn gaze. “Sara.”

                “No Len, it’s my turn to talk.” Her voice softens, “I have never cared about soulmates, it never stopped me from loving people. But when I realized my timer ran out on that roof I couldn’t help but wonder.” Her grip on his wrist is gone, and he dare not name the look in her eyes. “But as time went, I desperately hoped it was you.” Her thumb brushes his cheek, and he so desperately wants to give into the comfort. “You are in this pain because of me, so let me help you heal.”

                She pulls him into an embrace, and his body gives into her support. His arms come up behind her, his head resting against her shoulder as he allows her warmth to envelope him. “Okay.” Is the only word he can find. And as she holds him, he wonders if this is what it means to be loved.


	19. two parts of a whole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At birth you are given a necklace that is the missing half of your soulmate’s necklace.  
> ~  
> Pre-relationship  
> S3

* * *

                Leonard knocks softly on Sara’s office door, she looks up from the papers spread before her and motions him in. “Hey Len,”

                He almost smiles, stepping inside. “Mick and I took care of the anachronism, minimal ripples from what Gideon can tell.”

                She offers him a relieved look. “Thank you.” She frowns, rising from her chair and moving around the desk. “I am sorry to have asked you to jump back in the field so quickly after your return.” She runs a hand through her hair, “we’re just a bit buried in cases.”

                “A bit?” He raises a brow.

                She rolls her eyes, “shut up, Crook.” He can’t help that his eyes fall back to the completed pendant at her neck, but return to her face when she speaks. “Join me for a drink?”

                He nods, stepping to the side. “Lead the way, Captain.”

                Soon they are settled in her quarters, cards between them and it feels like nothing has changed. “What’s on your mind?” Sara’s watching him, head tilted just slightly to the side.

                He looks at her, considering, and whether it’s the soft buzz of alcohol or just the level of trust between them he’s not sure. “I was just noticing your room has changed, but I don’t see anyone else’s things.” When she offers a confused look he motions to the pendant at her neck.

                “Oh,” she reaches up, fiddling with the silver disk, “We aren’t exactly…”

                “You don’t have to explain,” he shakes his head, and she notices the way he’s tensed slightly. “I’m glad you found someone.”

                “Len,” she’s looking at him, a hint of amusement in her blue eyes. “For a master thief you aren’t all that observant sometimes.” She lifts the twin chains over her head, sliding one of her nails to pop them apart. She holds them in separate hands; one the disk with short pegs that he’s seen around her neck for the duration of their travels, the other disk with corresponding holes which she presses into one of his hands. “But then, Lisa did say you’d thrown it out a long time ago.”

                He’s frozen, fingering the still warm pendant, memories of angrily pulling it from his neck and tossing it aside as a young man resurfacing. “Of course she would find it.”

                Sara nods, “She gave it to me, when we went back to tell her what had happened.”

                He looks up at her, teeth worrying one lip as she fidgets with her own pendant. “So me, and you?”

                She nods, “Me & you.” She has this nervous little smile, and it’s the most unsure he’s ever seen her. “I was going to tell you…when things settled for more than two minutes.”

                He smirks, “things never settle on this ship, Assassin.” She nods, but is still fidgeting so he reaches out to lay a hand over hers. “Sara, look at me.” She does, and part of him wonders how he could ever deserve to be linked with such an amazing woman. “I came to you about….a future….without any idea that our pendants matched.” He gives a small smile, “I threw away my pendant because I wanted to choose who I let into my life for myself, the pendant is just proof I chose well.”

                She’s smiling now, and he thinks there might be tears building but before he can comment she’s kissing him. He tenses at the sudden contact, but quickly softens and settles one hand at her neck and the other steadying her waist. Despite the sudden move, it’s a slow kiss and he finds himself leaning into her.

                When they break away she’s still smiling, lips brushing his as she speaks. “For the record, I’d hoped it was you.” She settles back on her heels, cards still scattered beneath her knees as she sits before him. She carefully takes his pendant, clicking it back together with her own and then gently slipping it over his head to settle at his collar.

                He offers a puzzled look, and she just gives him a gentle smile. “I’ve had months with the comforting weight,” she rests her fingers over the pendant, “Now it’s your turn,” there’s playfulness back in her eyes, “a reminder that there’s an assassin waiting for you at the end of every mission.”

                “When you word it that way it sounds like a death wish,” he smirks, both hands having settled at her waist.

                “Depends on if you pull another stupid stunt like the oculus.” One of her hands has fallen back to her side, the other is playing at the nape of his neck. “You aren’t allowed to die on me, Crook.” Her tone is almost scolding, “that’s an order.”

                He chuckles, tugging her a little closer so he can whisper against her ear. “Of course, Captain.” And then he’s kissing her again.


End file.
